pasta
gogo dancer
deep end ?
closed rp!
closed rp!
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weldherwings
â-â
kang minho / 22 / full time student
today's outfit is proudly sponsored by every kdrama in history
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âMinho, come on man. Give them another dayâ
âItâs been eight days now, Chen. Eight. The first two days were okay. The third got a bit annoying. But by day four, Iâm over it. Iâm freezing my ass off at night time and itâs messing with my allergies!â
âYeah, but they said itâd take a while to sort things out. Just give it another day!â
âAnd whatâs another day going to do? I told them I could fix it myself but theyâre too chicken to let me attempt it.â
âItâs because of insurance. If you get hurt, youâre not covered by their insurance and you could possibly sue them. They donât want to go to court over a broken window that a student attempted to fixâ
âWell then, why donât they fix it?â
âCome on, Minnie. Just one more dayâ
Kang Minho was pissed.
No, he was furious.
He stopped dead in his tracks causing his friend and only to have his roommate, Choi Chen, bump into his solid back. Slowly, with a dark complexion upon his face, Minho turned around with a nasty glare in his eye. He gave his friend a death glare that could curdle dairy. âItâs been eight daysâŠâ he said in a scarily peaceful manner. âEight days of pretending that itâs okay, theyâll get it fixed soon. Eight days of freezing my ass off at night. Eight days of being scared out of my wits that someone could climb in through the window and steal all our stuff or slice our throats in the middle of the night. Eight days of having to have antihistamines. You know what those things do to you? They block you up. I havenât had a poop in three days.â
âMinnie-â
âI just want to poop!â the twenty-two-year-old yelled loudly in his friendâs face, his eyes wide and his hands balled up into fists from anger. Passing students and strangers gave them odd looks, causing Minho to have a reality check. Of course, he thought to himself, yelling about bodily functions isnât something you should yell out about, right? He stood up straight, trying to compose his anger from lashing out on his friend any further. Thankfully, Chen saw the bright side of it all and laughed at his friendâs outburst.
âI think everyone is glad you havenât pooped in a while. We can actually use the toilets without holding our breathâ Chen chuckled
âAishh!â Minho hissed as he frowned, raising his leg and playfully kicking his friend. âWhy do I even bother with you?â The male turned his heels once again and began to make his way towards the administration office. Due to his little outburst, he wasnât feeling as angry as before. But he was still borderline angry.
The two boys were full-time students at the National Sport University; both majoring in physical education and on the swimming team. Therefore, the pair of them had been placed in the same room in the male dorms and became friends quite quickly and fluently. However, eight days ago, Chen broke the window. He had been opening it to get some fresh air after practice when he heard something snap and alas, the window wouldnât shut anymore. They told their coach and the dorm supervisor and were told that it would be fixed the next time the handyman was out; which was in about three to four days. Okay, that was fine. But for the time being, they had to try and cover it up with cardboard or newspaper which really did nothing with the cold air at night-time.
Had it been three to four days like they were told, Minho wouldâve been happy. He wouldâve even helped the handyman. But it was now day eight, edging onto day nine, and he couldnât take it anymore. Every morning he was waking up with a sore throat and his nose blocked. His eyes felt like someone had rubbed lemons in them as the burnt. He could barely hear anything out of his ears. It was affecting his swimming capabilities to the point where his coach had him sit out and scolded him for it. Well, he had told him that the window wouldnât close. It wasnât his fault that he had allergies.
So, after being told off once again by their coach, Minho had decided to take matters into his own hand. They had just finished training and still smelt of chlorine as they ventured to the administration office. Minho walked with determination whilst Chen sheepishly followed after. There was no way the other male could stop Minho when he was charging around like a bull. So instead, he simply decided to tag along to ensure the boyâs rage didnât get the best of him and he wouldnât get into too much trouble. It wasnât that he had a bad temper, but rather that he was impatient, insensitive and could act petty at times. Not to say that he was full of negative traits as he had his positive traits also. However, it seemed that his negative ones always seemed to outshine the positive ones due to this projected image.
The two swimmers entered the building, automatically making their way over to the elevator. Minho impatiently waited with his arms crossed and tapping his foot. âCome on⊠come onâŠâ he mumbled to himself as he watched the elevatorâs numbers start to come down, a frown plastered onto his face. Finally, a ding echoed in the foyer and the doors opened wide. The two males entered the elevator with Minho automatically and impatiently pressing the floor number and âclose doorâ button at the same time numerously and viciously.
âPressing it more than once doesnât make it go any faster. You know that, right?â Chen questioned his friend, raising an eyebrow.
âIâm taking out all my anger on these buttons, so I donât end up taking it out on you. You should be grateful, you bratâ Minho replied, looking at his friend from over his shoulder. âAh⊠come onâŠâ he grumbled, turning his attention back to the doors which were surely taking their time to close.
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pasta
gogo dancer
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Mornings. Min Ja despised them. She always looked her worse when the sun began to peak over the horizon, stealing the moon of its position. Her face looked puffy, and her dark circles deepened as each day passed. Unfortunately, work was in the morning now, which contrasted with her previous job of working as a nightclub bartender. She woke up in a daze, and surprisingly, on time. The only reason she was late was that her roommate took up the bathroom, and she really had to go to the bathroom. So, she ended up missing her bus, and she had to take the following bus twenty-minutes or so later.
Perhaps agreeing to become an assistant in the administrative office of a university was a bad idea, but it seemed like the most straightforward job to fill, and the pay wasnât too bad. All she had to do was file papers, occasionally pick up coffees and do whatever was asked of her. It worked well with her second job, which was a barista on the same campus. They were close to each other, and the only thing she had to do was replace her clothes with appropriate barista attire -- she just needed to figure out where the bathrooms were.
On her first day at her new job, she was running late. She scrambled into the elevator before the doors could close, both hands occupied with makeup while her bag hung on her arm. A few moments prior, she had fallen while running up the slippery, stone steps of the building. Who knew business skirts were so restricting and unflattering. She was surprised it didnât rip when she tripped.
She used the distorted mirror-like walls of the elevator to pat the bb-cream under her eyes. Her face had changed plenty since she was younger; she had lost a lot of weight due to an excessive obsession with diets and working out. That obsession had begun once she moved away the year before high school started. The only thing that seemed to be the same about her was her dumbo ears. However, when looking in the mirror, she still saw that pig.
A pig. Taunting memories usually played on repeat when reminded of childhood insecurities. Most of them stemmed from a boy she was âfriendsâ with as a child, who liked to point out her weight problem. For a good chunk of her childhood, she felt like a human punching bag. The insults didnât bounce off of her, they only sunk in like rock falls to the bottom of a pond. She still couldn't eat in front of people without being haunted by the spirit of insecurity.
Only then did she notice the two college students beside her in the elevator. From the reflection of the elevator, she could see them. She lowered her makeup covered fingertips, dropping them to her sides and turning to face the doors. Awkwardly she laughed as she pushed a strand of hair behind her ears. She quietly apologized before avoiding any other contact with the pair.
They were two handsome fellows, and she didn't think she'd be able to spark up a conversation with them without her face turning the color chili pepper. Even entertaining the idea of speaking to the made her face flush. She surmised they wouldn't even try to talk to her. She was like any other girl, right? Or maybe even worse. So, she only did what anyone else would do, and stared at her formal shoes.[/div] [class=cutie3] width:180px; height:100px; background:url('https://66.media.tumblr.com/a6a83e88613030121a149b3f696f331c/tumblr_ortqt4RRs41u2453do1_400.gif'); background-size:101%; margin:auto; [/class] [div class=cutie3][/div]
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Mornings. Min Ja despised them. She always looked her worse when the sun began to peak over the horizon, stealing the moon of its position. Her face looked puffy, and her dark circles deepened as each day passed. Unfortunately, work was in the morning now, which contrasted with her previous job of working as a nightclub bartender. She woke up in a daze, and surprisingly, on time. The only reason she was late was that her roommate took up the bathroom, and she really had to go to the bathroom. So, she ended up missing her bus, and she had to take the following bus twenty-minutes or so later.
Perhaps agreeing to become an assistant in the administrative office of a university was a bad idea, but it seemed like the most straightforward job to fill, and the pay wasnât too bad. All she had to do was file papers, occasionally pick up coffees and do whatever was asked of her. It worked well with her second job, which was a barista on the same campus. They were close to each other, and the only thing she had to do was replace her clothes with appropriate barista attire -- she just needed to figure out where the bathrooms were.
On her first day at her new job, she was running late. She scrambled into the elevator before the doors could close, both hands occupied with makeup while her bag hung on her arm. A few moments prior, she had fallen while running up the slippery, stone steps of the building. Who knew business skirts were so restricting and unflattering. She was surprised it didnât rip when she tripped.
She used the distorted mirror-like walls of the elevator to pat the bb-cream under her eyes. Her face had changed plenty since she was younger; she had lost a lot of weight due to an excessive obsession with diets and working out. That obsession had begun once she moved away the year before high school started. The only thing that seemed to be the same about her was her dumbo ears. However, when looking in the mirror, she still saw that pig.
A pig. Taunting memories usually played on repeat when reminded of childhood insecurities. Most of them stemmed from a boy she was âfriendsâ with as a child, who liked to point out her weight problem. For a good chunk of her childhood, she felt like a human punching bag. The insults didnât bounce off of her, they only sunk in like rock falls to the bottom of a pond. She still couldn't eat in front of people without being haunted by the spirit of insecurity.
Only then did she notice the two college students beside her in the elevator. From the reflection of the elevator, she could see them. She lowered her makeup covered fingertips, dropping them to her sides and turning to face the doors. Awkwardly she laughed as she pushed a strand of hair behind her ears. She quietly apologized before avoiding any other contact with the pair.
They were two handsome fellows, and she didn't think she'd be able to spark up a conversation with them without her face turning the color chili pepper. Even entertaining the idea of speaking to the made her face flush. She surmised they wouldn't even try to talk to her. She was like any other girl, right? Or maybe even worse. So, she only did what anyone else would do, and stared at her formal shoes.[/div] [class=cutie3] width:180px; height:100px; background:url('https://66.media.tumblr.com/a6a83e88613030121a149b3f696f331c/tumblr_ortqt4RRs41u2453do1_400.gif'); background-size:101%; margin:auto; [/class] [div class=cutie3][/div]
weldherwings
â-â
As he crossed his arms in front of himself, he heard the girl next to him apologize. However, he took no note of it. In his mind, it was already too damn late to apologize. He didnât even care for what reason she was apologizing for. Instead, he chose to ignore her. Chen, on the other hand, offered her a wide smile and bowed in her direction with his face turning into a slight shade of red. Chen was always⊠well, scared?... Was that the word we were looking for? Well, he was always scared around girls that he thought were cute. So, Minho could pick it up straight away that Chen thought the girl in the elevator was cute from the way his posture and behaviourisms changed so quickly.
Whilst Chen was the scared kind, Minho was the straight-forward type of guy. He wanted to make sure that they knew how he felt and what his intentions were. Sure, it helped him out to have that sort of mentality. Sometimes it didnât, but hey, he managed to have three girlfriends in high school because of it. However, in saying that, most of the times he was acting before he was feeling. He was getting these girlfriends before realising that he didnât have feelings for them. That was his biggest downfall of it all. And because of that reason, after high school, he became very picky and was yet to have a proper girlfriend since.
He pressed his tongue against the bottom on his mouth, feeling the anger continuing to boil up inside of him as he felt the elevator moving way too slow for his liking. âCome onâŠâ he muttered under his breath before looking at his friend to continue his long-winded rant from before âI swear, if they donât anything today about this damn window, Iâm going to take it to the local news. Itâs been eight days and weâve been using cardboard to shield ourselves. Is this seriously how they treat upcoming athlete stars? I thought we are meant to be the Nationâs pride and joy?â
Chen stood there, completely frozen. His eyes wide as he gazed at Minho like something horrifying was happening. Minho scrunched his face up at the boy before questioning him. âWhat?!â he asked, confused. Chenâs eyes quickly darted from the boy over to the female, and then began to the boy. Minho just gave his friend another confused reaction to which Chen once again darted his eyes over to the female, lingering for a moment before quickly looking back at Minho. One final time; Minho was so confused. He mouthed a âwhat?!â to his friend before Chen smacked his arm and nodded slightly over to the female before looking wide eyed at Minho. He gave his friend another smack across the arm after he didnât respond to his eyes widening or the nodding.
Okay, it was official. Someone broke Chen.
âAishh,â Minho responded, moving his arm away from Chen before he could hit it again. Slowly, he brought his gaze over to the female next to them. What was Chen getting all rattled up about? She looked normal. Well, okay, she was pretty. Was that what Chen was on about? Was he freaking out because she was pretty? Oh God, this guy needed to learn how to grow a pair, didnât he? Chen would often act this way around girls and would always get Minho to start the conversation with them to try and sneak in his own words. It was an old routine that Minho was quickly growing tired of.
However, he decided to help out his friend. One last time. He offered the female next to him one of his classic friendly smiles. âRunning a bit late today?â he asked her, trying to keep down any anger that tried to seep through as his mind began to think about the damn administrative team and his damn dorm window.
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pasta
gogo dancer
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Min Jaâs eyes flickered to her antique watch strapped around her wrist. She was notably late. She was sure it was the latest she had ever been. Being behind on time wasnât an occurring problem, but she had been quite late for different jobs. "Curse you inconsiderate roommates and morning bladder problems.â She dropped her arm and briefly balled her fists up almost as a female antagonist would in a drama. She wouldnât be surprised if she was fired on the spot for neglecting to meet her work requirements.
She could tell from the corner of the eyes one of the men, turning towards her and bowing. She returned the gesture and followed it with another awkward chuckle before straightening out her skirt. Her cheeks were heating up, the toasty feeling starting at the tip of her nose and spreading to her cheeks. She couldnât tell whether the tomato color seeped through her foundation; hopefully, it wasnât. She wasn't prepared with an excuse to explain her brightening rouge.
Sweet, he was sweet. She wouldnât say she was particularly interested in dating the male beside her, but he was handsome enough to make her flush. Their interaction seemed to end there, and she was surprisingly content with that. If he was a student like she thought he was, sheâd be seeing him and his friend on campus regularly.
The other one began speaking to her, but she had a feeling he wasnât too interested. He didnât seem too keen on her when she rushed into the elevator. She swore he was annoyed by the way he continuously pressed the button as if it would make it go any faster. With her doubts in mind, she spoke, âYeah, my roommate sort of screwed me over.â She paused momentarily. âAnd, itâs my first day too -- Theyâll probably fire me...â The last part was a mere, unconfident whisper under her breath, only for herself to hear.
Insecurity always found new ways to leak itself into her speech. A nervous habit or a stupid tick, whichever it was, it was starting to affect her confidence. Her therapeutic friend, in her infinite wisdom, told her it was due to the childhood problems that she needed to overcome or get professional help for. It felt like a belittling insult, but now the issue was seeming to become a little serious -- at least for her social status.
She wished she could lock herself away in her room and just play Mei or Roadhog one more time before she faced death, eternal embarrassment, otherwise known as being fired. And, if it was in front of these boys, she would collapse on the carpet floor of the office and waste into nothing right there, or maybe sheâd just cry. Whichever, she was doomed.
âSo, why are you guys here?â She asked, trying to forget her worries for the brief moment she could. Wait, didn't the impatient one already complain about why they were there? Why didn't she think of a better conversation additive?
"Dammit."
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Min Jaâs eyes flickered to her antique watch strapped around her wrist. She was notably late. She was sure it was the latest she had ever been. Being behind on time wasnât an occurring problem, but she had been quite late for different jobs. "Curse you inconsiderate roommates and morning bladder problems.â She dropped her arm and briefly balled her fists up almost as a female antagonist would in a drama. She wouldnât be surprised if she was fired on the spot for neglecting to meet her work requirements.
She could tell from the corner of the eyes one of the men, turning towards her and bowing. She returned the gesture and followed it with another awkward chuckle before straightening out her skirt. Her cheeks were heating up, the toasty feeling starting at the tip of her nose and spreading to her cheeks. She couldnât tell whether the tomato color seeped through her foundation; hopefully, it wasnât. She wasn't prepared with an excuse to explain her brightening rouge.
Sweet, he was sweet. She wouldnât say she was particularly interested in dating the male beside her, but he was handsome enough to make her flush. Their interaction seemed to end there, and she was surprisingly content with that. If he was a student like she thought he was, sheâd be seeing him and his friend on campus regularly.
The other one began speaking to her, but she had a feeling he wasnât too interested. He didnât seem too keen on her when she rushed into the elevator. She swore he was annoyed by the way he continuously pressed the button as if it would make it go any faster. With her doubts in mind, she spoke, âYeah, my roommate sort of screwed me over.â She paused momentarily. âAnd, itâs my first day too -- Theyâll probably fire me...â The last part was a mere, unconfident whisper under her breath, only for herself to hear.
Insecurity always found new ways to leak itself into her speech. A nervous habit or a stupid tick, whichever it was, it was starting to affect her confidence. Her therapeutic friend, in her infinite wisdom, told her it was due to the childhood problems that she needed to overcome or get professional help for. It felt like a belittling insult, but now the issue was seeming to become a little serious -- at least for her social status.
She wished she could lock herself away in her room and just play Mei or Roadhog one more time before she faced death, eternal embarrassment, otherwise known as being fired. And, if it was in front of these boys, she would collapse on the carpet floor of the office and waste into nothing right there, or maybe sheâd just cry. Whichever, she was doomed.
âSo, why are you guys here?â She asked, trying to forget her worries for the brief moment she could. Wait, didn't the impatient one already complain about why they were there? Why didn't she think of a better conversation additive?
"Dammit."
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weldherwings
â-â
Which lead Minho to develop an understanding that if you love someone â or if you like them also â this was how you treated them. In his mind, that was how he translated his Appaâs actions. Umma always said that every time he called them fat or useless, he was really saying that he was proud of them and that he loved them. You could see how that would affect someoneâs thoughts, right? This meant that this was how Minho was exposed to expressing his love and adoration to people. Using harsh, poisonous words. He was completely convinced that that was how you showed love to someone because that was the only model he could go by growing up.
He really didnât want to go on with this conversation. Ideally, he wanted Chen to grow some balls and talk to her rather than using him as a medium. So, he stood there with his arms crossed, pressing his tongue against his teeth as he faced the elevator door. Minho wouldâve loved to spend the rest of the trip in complete silence, especially if Chen wasnât going to be speaking any time soon. However, it seemed that the female had other ideas and asked them a question. God dammit, Minho thought to himself as he pulled out his friendly smile out and turned to look at the female. If you knew him long enough, it was clear as day to see that the smile was forced and fake. But to someone who was looking at him for the very first time, they probably wouldâve seen it as a very refreshing smile.
âOur window in the dorm is broken. Itâs been broken for eight days,â he managed to strangle out as he tried to repress the anger by grinding his teeth slightly. âAnd no one seems to think that itâs an issue even though we reside on the third floor and itâs getting very cold at night and-â he couldâve kept going on with the ranting. But a small, semi-confident hand found itself placed upon his shoulder. Upon feeling Chenâs hand, he paused, taking a deep inhale in, causing his nostrils to flare ever so slightly, and licked his dry lips. He then released the exhale, turning to gaze back at the elevator door. He could feel himself getting even more pissed about it; I mean, if that was even possible.
âI-uh⊠Iâm sorry,â Chen managed to mumble out towards the female, giving her another respectful bow as he dropped his hand off of Minhoâs shoulder. âWeâve⊠havenât had much sleep⊠The cold air it uh⊠at night it becomes very cold in our room, even with the heating on.â
Well, well, well. It seemed that Chen had grown some balls after all.
And that was even more evident as he began to tug at Minhoâs sleeve. Minho gazed at his friend, his eyes wide as if to ask what do you want? The pair of them began to exchange glances between one and another; ones that only true friends would be able to translate.
Say sorry to her.
Why should I?
You were being rude.
Sheâs being stupid.
Sheâs cute.
Iâm not saying sorry.
Iâm eating a tub of Kimchi tonight then.
Minho rolled his eyes out of irritation before slowly turning his gaze from Chen, back to the female. That fake smile out on display once again. âSorry for my outburst. Iâve had to take antihistamines for the last eight days. I suppose Iâm just very irritated because I havenât made a bowel movement in over a week and Iâm just full of shi-â
Chenâs hand swiftly rose and hit Minho across the back of his head. The boy gasped from the sudden pain, placing his hand over where his friend had just hit him. Slowly, with a revengeful spirit, Minho narrowed his eyes and glared at the other male. âDonât swear in front of ladies!â Chen hissed at him; to which Minho could do nothing but let out a scoff, returning his gaze towards the doors once more.
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pasta
gogo dancer
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Min Ja knew she shouldnât have attempted to string along the conversation. It blew up in her face, she poured far too much gasoline onto the fire. She wanted to smack the tall guy. She glared at him while he spoke. And, his poor friend was stuck with such a miserable prick, apologizing for his every micro mistake. She would have felt bad for their lack of window, but perhaps the administrative staff didnât want to fix the problem because he was so far up his own ass.
âOh, thatâs awful,â She commented, now wanting to metaphorically murder the conversation and throw its lifeless body off the top of a skyscraper. âHopefully theyâll fix that soon.â
How was she supposed to reply to that? His apology struck a chord inside her, a horrible, out of tune chord. Anger. She bit her lip, holding in the bubbling, oozing annoyance. But, she couldnât. Once the nice one scolded him, she decided to do the same. âSeriously!â She agreed before shaking her head. âAnd your poor, sweet friend having to deal with a miserable, constipated baby, who thinks the world owes him everything. How sad.â She tilted her head slightly as she would to a child before straightening herself out. âGet a grip, loser, and be nice.â
Thankfully the elevator doors slid open, and she was able to hurry out of the situation as fast as her heels could take her.
But, there was a large problem waiting for her at the office.
There was no one. The office looked like an apocalyptic situation, abandoned. Had someone assigned a zombie outbreak and didnât invite her? Her lips parted as she scrambled over to her assigned desk and grabbed the note neatly folded and placed on the keyboard. She unfolded it, nearly ripping it at the creases with how roughly she moved it.
"Oh my god.â She gripped her ears and lowered her head slightly. It was some weird stress, worry habit she had since she as a child. Sure, she was radiating with happiness, she wouldnât get fired! However, she still had to deal with the mess she so willing created inside the elevator. The one day she decided to confront someone face to face, she also fell from âglory.â Perhaps over a mic, during a video game match was far better than staring them in the face and calling them âconstipated baby.â
She raised her head and reread over the letter before folding the corners of the paper, another worry habit. âOkay,â She muttered to herself. âBe as professional as possible.â
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Min Ja knew she shouldnât have attempted to string along the conversation. It blew up in her face, she poured far too much gasoline onto the fire. She wanted to smack the tall guy. She glared at him while he spoke. And, his poor friend was stuck with such a miserable prick, apologizing for his every micro mistake. She would have felt bad for their lack of window, but perhaps the administrative staff didnât want to fix the problem because he was so far up his own ass.
âOh, thatâs awful,â She commented, now wanting to metaphorically murder the conversation and throw its lifeless body off the top of a skyscraper. âHopefully theyâll fix that soon.â
How was she supposed to reply to that? His apology struck a chord inside her, a horrible, out of tune chord. Anger. She bit her lip, holding in the bubbling, oozing annoyance. But, she couldnât. Once the nice one scolded him, she decided to do the same. âSeriously!â She agreed before shaking her head. âAnd your poor, sweet friend having to deal with a miserable, constipated baby, who thinks the world owes him everything. How sad.â She tilted her head slightly as she would to a child before straightening herself out. âGet a grip, loser, and be nice.â
Thankfully the elevator doors slid open, and she was able to hurry out of the situation as fast as her heels could take her.
But, there was a large problem waiting for her at the office.
There was no one. The office looked like an apocalyptic situation, abandoned. Had someone assigned a zombie outbreak and didnât invite her? Her lips parted as she scrambled over to her assigned desk and grabbed the note neatly folded and placed on the keyboard. She unfolded it, nearly ripping it at the creases with how roughly she moved it.
Dear Min Ja,
Sorry to inform you so informally, but the office has taken an early lunch to celebrate our secretary, Boraâs birthday. We would have invited you, but we left before you arrived. Sorry! We should be back before 1:00 pm. Take care of the office for us!
Sincerely, Ko Seol
Sorry to inform you so informally, but the office has taken an early lunch to celebrate our secretary, Boraâs birthday. We would have invited you, but we left before you arrived. Sorry! We should be back before 1:00 pm. Take care of the office for us!
Sincerely, Ko Seol
"Oh my god.â She gripped her ears and lowered her head slightly. It was some weird stress, worry habit she had since she as a child. Sure, she was radiating with happiness, she wouldnât get fired! However, she still had to deal with the mess she so willing created inside the elevator. The one day she decided to confront someone face to face, she also fell from âglory.â Perhaps over a mic, during a video game match was far better than staring them in the face and calling them âconstipated baby.â
She raised her head and reread over the letter before folding the corners of the paper, another worry habit. âOkay,â She muttered to herself. âBe as professional as possible.â
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weldherwings
â-â
âIâm a constipated baby?! Sheâs staff here! She should learn how to speak to students with respect! How dare she talk to me like that. Does she know who we are?â he asked⊠well, he wasnât really asking anyone. If anything, Minho was having a monologue rant to himself. He couldâve easily been talking to Chen, but he knew the boy wasnât listening as he saw his friendâs eyes watching as the female walked away in a hurry. With a frown upon his face, the boy crossed his arms in front of his chest as he continued to diverge into a rant. âIâm going to find out her name and report her to her supervisor. Star athletes shouldnât be spoken to in this way. Not by administration staff. And she called me a loser â and to be nice!â He scoffed loudly, feeling the anger continuing to rise within him âHow can I be a loser when I have friends! I donât see her being able to make any friends. Poor self-esteem and running late.â
The boy let out a long frustrated sigh before realising that his friend next to him probably didnât hear a word he just said. In fact⊠the boy was just⊠smiling into space. âWhy are you smiling so much?â Minho asked Chen with must disgust on his face.
Chen was away with the fairies. A giant smile was on his face as he swayed back and forth in a moment of bliss. His friend then turned to him with a daydream daze upon his complexion. âShe thinks Iâm sweetâ he hummed back to Minho with his face forming a goofy smile.
âAishh!â Minho scrunched his face before lifting his leg to give his friend a gentle kick as a warning. âYouâre such an idiot. Letâs get in quickly before I beat your ass senseless.â
The two males exited the elevator before the doors shut on them and began their walk to the office. However, the closer they approached the office, something seemed⊠off. It looked like it was dead to the whole world. There was not a single soul in sight. A frown came to Minhoâs face as his eyes glanced around the workspace. Surely thereâd be somewhere here. There wasnât an apocalypse whilst they were in the elevator and they had been left behind or something? Damn, what metal were those elevators made from if that was the case? His eyes continued to wander around until they landed on the one person in the office that was there.
Her.
The frown on his face grew and took permanent residence on his face. Chen could see the threatening complexion upon Minho and turned to the male, placing his hands on his broad shoulders. âLet me see whatâs going on. You just⊠wait here before you get into any more fightsâ his friend instructed him. Minhoâs eyes gazed from the female who was reading the letter back to his friend with an unsatisfied look creeping in. Eventually, he let out a huff of breath, rolled his eyes and waved his hand to Chen as if to signal him to go on without him. Chen smiled widely at his friend before taking strides towards the female they had just met in the elevator.
âUh⊠Sorry⊠Miss? Yeah, hi!â Chen began, stumbling over his words as he bowed towards her respectfully once again. The boy began to play with the hem of his shirt, feeling his heart pounding in his chest as he began to speak to this⊠this pretty, young woman. âWe uh⊠we were wondering⊠Has something happened? Has the administration team⊠become sick? We just⊠weâd really like to talk to someone today⊠about our window. Itâs⊠itâs become quite bothersome and weâd really appreciate seeing the process of its repairs.â
While Chen spoke to the female, Minho kept his distance. Well, he could hear everything Chen was saying at least. With his hands planted on his waist and his glare upon the female, he began to walk back and forth on the spot like a shark swimming around for its prey. âConstipated babyâŠâ he muttered under his breath before letting out another scoff of disbelief âWhat nerve she hasâŠâ
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pasta
gogo dancer
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Min Ja wasnât prepared for any form of confrontation, sheâd crumble and waste into the carpet beneath her if she had to come up with a sparkling comeback. So, she was quite relieved when it was the sweet one from the lift who approached her. However, she did notice the constipated babyâs miserable expression. Was that because of her? She wouldâve laughed at how easy it was to hurt his pride, but she didnât want to ruin the serene mood she was building up for herself.
She stood up from her cushioned office chair and smiled, trying to be as professional as possible. However, that wilted away when she noticed the shy tick in the voice of the male before her. It made her slightly nervous as well, like two teenagers with zero dating experience fumbling around the idea of liking each other. It was adorable and as soft as a plushie animal.
She felt bad for him and only him; all he wanted was his window to be fixed, but the department's early lunch, which excluded her, had prevented that. The other one could continue being full of bowel waste because she, frankly, didnât care about his well being, and she doubted she ever would.
âWell, you see,â She began, folding the letter multiple times until it the paper had become too thick to continuing overlapping it, and then she proceeded to unfold it and repeat the process. âEveryone in the office, besides myself, left to celebrate the secretaryâs birthday. I was left out because I didnât make it in time.â She shrugged before holding out the letter. âSee?â The paper had become quite worn out due to her consent folding and unfolding of it, but it was still readable.
âIâm new to the office, and my privileges are really limited, so I donât know exactly what I can do to help you guys -- I mean, I havenât even received a real tour of the place,â she rambled on. âUh, however, I can let them know you were here or you guys could come back after one,â she suggested with a sympathetic frown and a tilt of the head. âIâm truly sorry that things ended up like this,â she apologized as she pushed her strands of hair behind her ears.
However angry or upset she was, she couldnât lie, the administrative team seemed awfully unprofessional. She had been notified they usually eat their lunches in the office; it allowed them to constantly work and grant them more time for paperwork. It made her feel slightly bitter; she had packed her own lunch in a Sailor Moon themed bento box, a gift her from her grandmother in Japan, who after years still thought she was a preteen. She wanted to show off how good she was at making rice shaped as panda bears. But she felt it'd be strange to eat in the office while no one else was; it made her feel insecure and uneasy. It'd make her look like a pig. Perhaps she'd eat in the bathroom. As disgusting as it sounded, it sounded better than eating in a silent, working office.
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Min Ja wasnât prepared for any form of confrontation, sheâd crumble and waste into the carpet beneath her if she had to come up with a sparkling comeback. So, she was quite relieved when it was the sweet one from the lift who approached her. However, she did notice the constipated babyâs miserable expression. Was that because of her? She wouldâve laughed at how easy it was to hurt his pride, but she didnât want to ruin the serene mood she was building up for herself.
She stood up from her cushioned office chair and smiled, trying to be as professional as possible. However, that wilted away when she noticed the shy tick in the voice of the male before her. It made her slightly nervous as well, like two teenagers with zero dating experience fumbling around the idea of liking each other. It was adorable and as soft as a plushie animal.
She felt bad for him and only him; all he wanted was his window to be fixed, but the department's early lunch, which excluded her, had prevented that. The other one could continue being full of bowel waste because she, frankly, didnât care about his well being, and she doubted she ever would.
âWell, you see,â She began, folding the letter multiple times until it the paper had become too thick to continuing overlapping it, and then she proceeded to unfold it and repeat the process. âEveryone in the office, besides myself, left to celebrate the secretaryâs birthday. I was left out because I didnât make it in time.â She shrugged before holding out the letter. âSee?â The paper had become quite worn out due to her consent folding and unfolding of it, but it was still readable.
âIâm new to the office, and my privileges are really limited, so I donât know exactly what I can do to help you guys -- I mean, I havenât even received a real tour of the place,â she rambled on. âUh, however, I can let them know you were here or you guys could come back after one,â she suggested with a sympathetic frown and a tilt of the head. âIâm truly sorry that things ended up like this,â she apologized as she pushed her strands of hair behind her ears.
However angry or upset she was, she couldnât lie, the administrative team seemed awfully unprofessional. She had been notified they usually eat their lunches in the office; it allowed them to constantly work and grant them more time for paperwork. It made her feel slightly bitter; she had packed her own lunch in a Sailor Moon themed bento box, a gift her from her grandmother in Japan, who after years still thought she was a preteen. She wanted to show off how good she was at making rice shaped as panda bears. But she felt it'd be strange to eat in the office while no one else was; it made her feel insecure and uneasy. It'd make her look like a pig. Perhaps she'd eat in the bathroom. As disgusting as it sounded, it sounded better than eating in a silent, working office.
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weldherwings
â-â
Upon hearing her talk, the boy couldnât help but gaze over with wide eyes. There was no one here. She was suggesting that theyâd come back at one and was apologising for something that wasnât her fault. Grow some damn balls man, Minho thought to himself, a frown plastering his face, Why the hell are you apologising for something that isnât even your fault? Women these days, seriously.
The male made his way over to his friend, placing his arm around his shoulders as a form of support. He licked his lips in preparation to speak, gazing at the female before him as he tilted his head to the side. âSo, what youâre saying isâŠâ he began, a wide smile forming upon his face as if he was amused. Oh, no. He was far from amused. But he was trying his hardest not to seem so⊠intimidating âThere is no one⊠absolutely⊠no one here that could help us with our problem?â Minho scoffed, gazing towards the window and pondering if he should break one of their windows and continue to do so until they fixed theirs. Oh no, that wouldnât look good on his student records now, would it? He brought his gaze back to the girl, a fake, wide smile on his face as he tried to repress the anger boiling up inside. âAnd to come back at oneâŠâ he let out another scoff before dropping his arm off of Chen. Minho turned at his heels and made his way towards the wall behind him. With his balled-up fists, he placed them against the wall, along with pressing his forehead against it. âAishhh⊠The Lord is testing us, isnât he? What did I do in my past life that was so horrible that we deserve this type of treatment...â he whined under his breath as he closed his eyes.
Chen chuckled at Minhoâs over-dramatic actions before turning back to the female before him. âDonât mind⊠Minho⊠He can be impatient.â He said, offering her a sincere, sweet smile. She thinks Iâm sweet, played back in his mind once more, feeling the smile on his face grow and his cheeks to warm. âWeâre students specialising in swimming. Sadly⊠our swimming team training session starts at one and wonât finish until tonight. So⊠We wonât be able to make it back in time to see the administrative team.â He explained to her, feeling his overwhelming sense of confidence beginning to build in his chest. Was it because Minho was acting like an idiot and it gave him the extra confidence he needed to talk to this female? It probably wasnât, but Chen was going to assume that it was. He made a mental note in the back of his brain to thank his friend later. âCould we⊠maybe leave our details again? Weâd really like to have our window fixed soonâ he added with a breathy chuckle and grin.
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pasta
gogo dancer
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Of course, of course! The tall man had to ruin her moment of a high school-like romance. She squinted into a glare, directing it towards him. She wanted to say something along the lines of, âSmack your head against the wall, and maybe itâll fix your attitude.â However, containing herself seemed like the best possible route in the current situation, so she returned her gaze back to the friendly-friend.
She snorted at the apology on behalf of his friend. She was just like a pig now, and it was embarrassing, but she fought the awkward kickback she got from it with a smile.
So, Minho was his name? He was nothing like her favorite idol; he really wasn't living up to his name, and it irritated her. He was impatient, which was an understatement; it was more like a toddler throwing a fit after not getting what they wanted. She cleared her throat before nodding. âRight, I understand though.â It was the half-truth; sure, she understood how annoying the situation was, but she didnât understand how someone could be driven to a comical outburst. It was probably too much pride and some neurotic tendencies.
âHeâs a swimmer?â She thought to herself while her large eyes, fringed with thick long lashes blinked in adoration. Were her eyes glowing and glittering with hearts? It was so cool and charming. She was thinking ahead into an impossible future of romance and going to support him at swimming competitions. With her mind racing on possible drama-like scenarios when she tried to talk aloud, she didnât know what to say. âOh, thatâs unfortunate.â She couldnât have hated herself more at that moment. Her words were bland, her confidence was reaching the center of the earth, and she was fantasizing about watching men swim - sweetly pathetic.
At the mention of leaving their info, she nodded before quickly turning to grab a notepad and pen from her bag, which was situated in the drafty corner of the office by her desk -- which was surprisingly one of the better working conditions sheâs worked at. âJust write your info in here, and Iâll just give it to the person in charge, so they can set up an appointment with you,â she explained while walking back towards the pair.
She handed over the chintz-flowered notepad, but not before flipping to a clean, fresh page. The mini notepad was usually used for grocery lists or to-do lists, but she felt the current situation was good enough to be put into it. To not seem weird, sheâd probably end up ripping out the page.
She wondered if the administrative department wouldnât even pay any mind to the contact information left. From what she had heard, theyâve been putting off fixing the window for days. She supposed the swimmers needed to be sure that the staff was focusing on fixing the window, rather than ignoring it completely. What could be stopping the staff from repairing the problem? Maybe money or resources? Surely, it wouldnât be too costly to fix a single window. Perhaps they saw the tall guyâs attitude and decided silent punishment was the best option. Thatâd be really rich, wouldnât it?
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Of course, of course! The tall man had to ruin her moment of a high school-like romance. She squinted into a glare, directing it towards him. She wanted to say something along the lines of, âSmack your head against the wall, and maybe itâll fix your attitude.â However, containing herself seemed like the best possible route in the current situation, so she returned her gaze back to the friendly-friend.
She snorted at the apology on behalf of his friend. She was just like a pig now, and it was embarrassing, but she fought the awkward kickback she got from it with a smile.
So, Minho was his name? He was nothing like her favorite idol; he really wasn't living up to his name, and it irritated her. He was impatient, which was an understatement; it was more like a toddler throwing a fit after not getting what they wanted. She cleared her throat before nodding. âRight, I understand though.â It was the half-truth; sure, she understood how annoying the situation was, but she didnât understand how someone could be driven to a comical outburst. It was probably too much pride and some neurotic tendencies.
âHeâs a swimmer?â She thought to herself while her large eyes, fringed with thick long lashes blinked in adoration. Were her eyes glowing and glittering with hearts? It was so cool and charming. She was thinking ahead into an impossible future of romance and going to support him at swimming competitions. With her mind racing on possible drama-like scenarios when she tried to talk aloud, she didnât know what to say. âOh, thatâs unfortunate.â She couldnât have hated herself more at that moment. Her words were bland, her confidence was reaching the center of the earth, and she was fantasizing about watching men swim - sweetly pathetic.
At the mention of leaving their info, she nodded before quickly turning to grab a notepad and pen from her bag, which was situated in the drafty corner of the office by her desk -- which was surprisingly one of the better working conditions sheâs worked at. âJust write your info in here, and Iâll just give it to the person in charge, so they can set up an appointment with you,â she explained while walking back towards the pair.
She handed over the chintz-flowered notepad, but not before flipping to a clean, fresh page. The mini notepad was usually used for grocery lists or to-do lists, but she felt the current situation was good enough to be put into it. To not seem weird, sheâd probably end up ripping out the page.
She wondered if the administrative department wouldnât even pay any mind to the contact information left. From what she had heard, theyâve been putting off fixing the window for days. She supposed the swimmers needed to be sure that the staff was focusing on fixing the window, rather than ignoring it completely. What could be stopping the staff from repairing the problem? Maybe money or resources? Surely, it wouldnât be too costly to fix a single window. Perhaps they saw the tall guyâs attitude and decided silent punishment was the best option. Thatâd be really rich, wouldnât it?
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weldherwings
â-â
âMinho,â he called, watching as his friend slowly turned his head to gaze over at the pair of them. âDid you want to write your information down too?â
Minho lazily gazed at his friend, his eyes travelling back and forth from Chen and the female they had encountered from the elevator. Finally, he let out a defeated sigh and rolled his eyes. âFineâŠâ he huffed lightly, beginning to walk over to the counter. However, he paused in his tracks and his eyes became wide. His mouth started to fall open and before he could stop himself, a collection of involuntary sneezes came flying from his nose. He had been quick enough to bring his arm up to cover the sneezes; after all, this chick already thought he was a constipated baby. He didnât want her thinking that he was a baby with no hygiene knowledge either. After a grand total of seven sneezes, he brought his hands to the back of his neck feeling the tense muscles from his sneezing episode. âAishh!â he groaned, frowning before dropping his arms to his side âI canât deal with these damn allergies anymore. Iâm going to go crazy with the sneezing.â
He inhaled through his nose sharply, hearing the warning sounds of his nose starting to become blocked up. Oh, well, that was great. His antihistamines mustâve been wearing off and now he was going to have a blocked nose for training, wasnât he? Just freaking great. Pressing his lips together, sealing them shut, he finally made his way over to the countertop. Chen handed him the notepad and pen to which he thanked him before gazing down at the paper. Oh geez, Chen, he thought to himself, there is no way in hell anyone is going to contact you with that God awful handwriting. Even Minho was struggling to read his friendâs handwriting. But, instead of saying anything mean about it or even teasing in a friendly way because there were judgemental people watching who thought the sun shined out of Chenâs asshole, he pressed his tongue against the roof of his mouth and proceeded to write down his information.
Like Chen, he placed down his full name (Kang Minho), his student ID number and his personal mobile number. And then his email address. And then his student email address. And this parentâs house number. Because, you know, they would have no excuses in trying to contact him. In the past, they loved to say that they didnât have a number, or they didnât have his email, or they didnât have his student ID. Well, now they had everything. He let out a satisfied sigh, gazing down at the paper. He didnât want to toot his own horn, but his handwriting was pretty damn neat compared to most men he knew. Well, extremely neat compared to Chenâs but that really wasnât that hard at all.
Once Minho had finished writing his information down, Chen was quick to snatch it out from his grasp and handed it back over to the female with two hands and a wide smile on his face. âHere you go,â he said to her brightly. âThank you so much for your help as well. We really appreciate itâ
What help was she? Minho darkly thought to himself, lazily watching his friend interact with the female
She called me a constipated baby and then told us to write our names down on a piece of paper. Yeah, big freaking help.
pasta
gogo dancer
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Min Ja, for some odd reason, was looking forward to getting back her notepad. It was nice to have a guyâs number even if she wasnât intending on contacting him -- itâd be strange of her to do that, especially since it wasnât for her use, but instead for the office staff. She didnât think sheâd be receiving Mr. Constipatedâs information as well. Although she wasnât too fond of him writing down his information, she was relieved he covered his face while sneezing. She wouldâve thrown up last nightâs dinner if he hadnât. Anything relating to snot made her gag and squirm.
Even the thought of it -- Stop.
When she received the notepad back, the guy she liked had written something extremely unintelligible. For the sake of their window ever being fixed, she was glad Minho had written down his information too even if she was opposed to it. He did seem to need the window fixed, and she was beginning to feel bad for her outburst in the elevator. Perhaps she needed to apologize to wash away the guilt.
âNo problem.â She smiled. âI wish I couldâve done more to help.â She knew she hadnât done much at all besides collect their info that the administrative team may turn a blind eye too. She had to admit, the nice one thanking her was unnecessary. The two menâs contact info couldâve been in the student files for all she knew, and she dumbly collected it for nothing. She could easily imagine the embarrassment she could receive when the receptionist informed her of this.
âBefore you guys go,â she began before taking a breath in between her apology. âIâm sorry for what happened in the elevator. It was really immature of me,â she finished with a confident nod. The tall guy just needed to accept her apology so she could spend the rest of her week guilt-free. She acted like the bigger man and it was a fuzzy, nice feeling. For once, she wasnât picking into her anger like a hungry vulture as she would when she was raging during a video game.
She glanced back down at the paper, and her eyes fell onto a certain surname. Kang. Now, the family name alone wasnât too alarming, but the combination of Kang and Minho was a familiar string of letters that followed her through her childhood. She doubted the annoying man was this child that was the root of her insecurities, but it was a sure reminder of what ate away at her self esteem. Now, that she looked at him with this newfound information, he vaguely resembled her childhood bully. But, she immediately stopped herself from going too far into it; she was creating similarities out of thin air and causing more problems and worries for herself.
The boy from her elementary years was an evil, little brat who scraped at her forming brain and created insecurities for her. To blame him for her ALL of her insecurities was wrong -- her motherâs grandparents and classmates helped him with subtle jabs at her weight and interests, but it wasnât nearly as bad as him alone. His name had been etched into her skull with a jackhammer for a reason.
but all children were mean and lacked filters, right?
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Min Ja, for some odd reason, was looking forward to getting back her notepad. It was nice to have a guyâs number even if she wasnât intending on contacting him -- itâd be strange of her to do that, especially since it wasnât for her use, but instead for the office staff. She didnât think sheâd be receiving Mr. Constipatedâs information as well. Although she wasnât too fond of him writing down his information, she was relieved he covered his face while sneezing. She wouldâve thrown up last nightâs dinner if he hadnât. Anything relating to snot made her gag and squirm.
Even the thought of it -- Stop.
When she received the notepad back, the guy she liked had written something extremely unintelligible. For the sake of their window ever being fixed, she was glad Minho had written down his information too even if she was opposed to it. He did seem to need the window fixed, and she was beginning to feel bad for her outburst in the elevator. Perhaps she needed to apologize to wash away the guilt.
âNo problem.â She smiled. âI wish I couldâve done more to help.â She knew she hadnât done much at all besides collect their info that the administrative team may turn a blind eye too. She had to admit, the nice one thanking her was unnecessary. The two menâs contact info couldâve been in the student files for all she knew, and she dumbly collected it for nothing. She could easily imagine the embarrassment she could receive when the receptionist informed her of this.
âBefore you guys go,â she began before taking a breath in between her apology. âIâm sorry for what happened in the elevator. It was really immature of me,â she finished with a confident nod. The tall guy just needed to accept her apology so she could spend the rest of her week guilt-free. She acted like the bigger man and it was a fuzzy, nice feeling. For once, she wasnât picking into her anger like a hungry vulture as she would when she was raging during a video game.
She glanced back down at the paper, and her eyes fell onto a certain surname. Kang. Now, the family name alone wasnât too alarming, but the combination of Kang and Minho was a familiar string of letters that followed her through her childhood. She doubted the annoying man was this child that was the root of her insecurities, but it was a sure reminder of what ate away at her self esteem. Now, that she looked at him with this newfound information, he vaguely resembled her childhood bully. But, she immediately stopped herself from going too far into it; she was creating similarities out of thin air and causing more problems and worries for herself.
The boy from her elementary years was an evil, little brat who scraped at her forming brain and created insecurities for her. To blame him for her ALL of her insecurities was wrong -- her motherâs grandparents and classmates helped him with subtle jabs at her weight and interests, but it wasnât nearly as bad as him alone. His name had been etched into her skull with a jackhammer for a reason.
but all children were mean and lacked filters, right?
[/div] [class=cutie3] height:30px; width:50%; background:url('https://66.media.tumblr.com/5218827b99e12213bdcfc8468dc9f322/tumblr_mlyhqtTX371r7y61oo1_400.gif'); background-size:101%; margin:auto; background-position:0px 335px; [/class] [div class=cutie3][/div]
Last edited:
weldherwings
â-â
He had given their names, numbers and any other silly piece of information that they needed to get their damn window fixed. As far as he was concerned, there was no other reason for them to hang around. So, he placed his hands into his pockets and turned his heels to make his way towards the elevator once again. Well, that wouldâve been the case. Until he heard her voice again. Slowly, he turned around and stared blankly at the female who had called him a constipated baby. Seriously, the cheek of her. Chen was hanging onto her every word, but Minho stood there with his hands in his pockets and lazily gazing at her.
And then she said it.
She apologized.
Woah, that came out of nowhere. Minho didnât know what to do. His eyes were slightly wide and his mouth agape as he gazed at the female like she had gone absolutely mental. There was a part of him that wanted to scold her; to tell her to stand up for what she believed in and to not back down on the things she said in fear of retribution. There was another part of him telling him that she was only doing it because of a guilty conscious. If she was religious, this would be her way of repenting her sins just in case she was hit by a car on her way home today and could still make it to Heaven, right? Finally, there was a part of him that wanted to graciously take the apology in fear that she would continue to call him out as some constipated baby who didnât know how to function in this world as an adult. In all honesty, the boy was having a mental breakdown over his morals.
He was literally having a human glitch. Something which Kang Minho didnât do. He didnât have human glitches. So, now he was starting to fear his own actions and thoughts. And because he was so unsure of how to react, he accidentally let out a scoff of air and gazed between this girl, his friend and then back to this girl. Okay, he had already ruined this opportunity with that reaction. You idiot, Minho, he thought to himself, embarrassed that he was acting this way. If his Appa saw him like this right now⊠heâd beat the living daylights out of him for not having any sort of confidence. So, instead, the boy simply shook his head to get rid of any insecure, negative thoughts, turned at the heel and made his way towards the elevator. Not really caring if Chen came with him or not.
âMinho â Wait, Minnie!â he could hear his friend call out after him. Chen apologised to the female, bowing at her before following Minho through the elevator. âMinnie!â he pleaded as the pair of them entered, taking hold of his friendâs arm and watching the doors slowly close.
âWhat?â Minho hissed back at his friend, his eyes wide and his nostrils flaring.
âI uhâŠâ the boy smiled sweetly âI uhh⊠need one more favourâŠâ
Minho closed his eyes and tilted his head. Just count to three Minho. Heâs your best friend, he thought to himself before gazing back at his friend as he tried to keep his cool. âOne more favour. What is it?â he said peacefully.
âI uh⊠I wanted you to write my number for herâŠâ he said in a small voice, looking down at his feet âBecause⊠my writing it so badâ
The boy couldâve punched Chen there and then. Minho brought his hand up to his face in an iconic facepalm situation. âFor fu- Iâm actually going to kill you one of these days, you know that Chen?â he snapped at his friend before violently pressing the floor number once more. Of course, he was going to do it. Chen was his best friend and there had been many times that the other male got him out of sticky situations. He let out a frustrated huff, watching as the elevator slowly crept up to the desired floor once again. As it reached the floor, it let out a soft ding and Minho was out on his mission.
With great long strides, leaving Chen to awkwardly stand by the elevator with his tail between his legs, Minho approached the desk once more. âYou,â he said, pointing to the female which they had the absolute pleasure of meeting today. âMy friend thinks your hot.â â he could hear Chen hiss out his name in embarrassment from the elevator door- âHe wants me to give you his number but heâs too embarrassed about his crappy handwriting. So⊠Pen and paper, pleaseâ Well, at least he was using his manners.
